


Comfort

by teacupofhoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:06:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17103734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupofhoney/pseuds/teacupofhoney
Summary: "Your room is just as hospitable as you are, Sam."





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Supposed to take place sometime right after 11x04, enjoy!

Sam turned on his bedroom light, a little sore, a little busted up, but nothing a good four or five hours wouldn’t fix. Except, one problem. There was a sleeping, newly human, snoring Castiel curled up in the middle of his bed wearing his sweats with the television on the ‘Continue Watching?’ screen of Netflix.

Sam just smiled and turned the light out, planning to just go to the room next door for the night. Not worth it waking the former angel up just to get a few hours. He turned away, and when the door was at almost a crack-

“Sam?” He stopped, peeking the door open.

“Yeah- Yeah, sorry, just letting myself out, you go back to sleep, Cas.” Sam gave a smile and went to pull the door closed, stopped again.

“It’s your room, come in, please. You need rest.” Cas did a once over in the dim light and frowned, “You’re hurt, Sam.”

Sam just gave a nod and shrugged, “Was gonna sleep in the room ne-“

“I insist, take your bed. Come.” He patted the bed and scooted over, making no attempt to move himself away from it.

“I’ll keep you company. Is that fine by you? I also borrowed your clothing.. Your room is just as hospitable as you are, Sam.” Cas gave a welcoming grin and Sam just stared, not able to resist the warm smile that spread across his exhausted face. He gave in sooner than he should have at the proposal of sleeping with your best friend, not bothering with changing before he was slipped into the bed and curling up comfortably.

The bed shifted and squeaked as Castiel got resituated, soon slotting in right up against Sam and wrapping an arm over the bare patch where his shirt rode up. Sam tensed, sighing, soon letting out just a chuckle.

“Whatcha doin’, Cas?” He asked, the need for sleep most obvious in his voice. A kiss to the back of his skull, hesitant and warm and lingering just a little too long, was the first answer.

“I cannot heal you, but I can provide comfort. If you like,” came the second. Sam marked off the warm whiskey feeling in his chest and gut as being tired, but this alone was enough to get him to relax again and nod, patting Cas’ hand.

“I like. Thank you, Cas.” And Sam got eight hours instead of four for the first time in years.


End file.
